bread lover
by pumpkinpickles
Summary: Domestic Future AU where Souma returns to Takumi's side in Italy, Takumi bakes in the early morning and it's generally filled with sap. [SouTaku]


Sunlight cuts through the translucent curtains to drape itself across Souma's face, forcing him to turn over with a loud groan. His arm swings in a huge arc as he flips, and he expects to find a warm body for his limb to curl around but feels nothing. Souma blindly gropes around for a few minutes. Still, nothing.

Confused, he opens his eyes to face an empty second pillow. Souma blearily blinks.

"...Cold." He mutters. Both the bed, and his husband who let him wake up alone the morning after he returned from a three month trip.

The bedroom door is cracked open slightly. A person's voice announcing the weather filters through. Souma sits up, yawning as the voice fades out into soft trills of a classical piece. His hazy gaze settles on the rays of light splashed upon the blanket.

A warm scent tickles his nose. So warm and fresh Souma nearly believes that sunlight has a smell.

Then common sense kicks in, and him out of bed.

Souma's nose leads him into the kitchen, the source of sunshine's smell and piano melody. The heavy fragrance of coffee mixes delightfully with the tangy smell of yeast and cinnamon that floats in the air. Despite the early hour, there's trays of freshly baked bread laid out on the countertops, some glazed, some puckered with fruit and nuts. Rolling pins and mixing bowls methodically placed upon the flour coated workplace, a half open packet of sugar and a tub of margarine accompanying the kitchenware.

Takumi stands in the middle of it all, humming to the tune that the piano plays over the radio, flour crusted hands kneading a slab of dough before him. Shoulders slack, mouth curved in a content smile, a dash of flour streaked on his cheek and across the bridge of his nose.

Souma can't suppress his affectionate grin at the homely sight. Quietly walking forward, to not break the dreamlike trance Takumi seems to have sunken into. Also because it was fun catching Takumi off guard.

"You've got something here."

Souma's lips meet Takumi's cheek as the blond turns, and Takumi laughs in surprise.

"Good morning to you, too." Takumi turns that smile towards Souma, and Souma feels himself melt. Yeah, he could forgive Takumi for leaving him alone in bed. Cute flour streaked Takumi with a smile that lights up rooms. His smile could outshine the sun. Bring world peace, even.

It was times like this that Souma felt compelled to yell out of a window about Takumi's perfection and what a lucky man he was.

"Whatever you're thinking of, don't." Takumi's voice cuts through the formulating speech in Souma's mind, wry smile pulling on the corners of his lips as he returns to kneading dough.

"But how else will Italy know that you're the best and cutest husband alive?" Souma mock whines, grinding his head against Takumi's shoulder.

He can already picture the blush rising on Takumi's cheeks, those ocean blue eyes rolling.

"They won't, because you aren't screaming anything out of any windows. Wasn't doing that in Yukihira enough for you?"

"I was drunk, it doesn't count." Souma lifts his head, dismissing the reply with a shake of his head. He watches Takumi's slender fingers press the dough, pull it into halves, and then halves again to make quarters. "Why're you baking bread this early anyway?"

"Nostalgia." Takumi reaches for a cookie cutter nearby - they'd gotten a set of those as a Christmas present from Megumi a year or so back - smiling at the cat shape he presses into the dough.

"When I woke up, it was cloudy. Most cloudy days are Mama's good ones. When I was a kid, on those days, I'd find her in the kitchen in the morning, baking away. Then the three of us, Mama, Isami and I, would bake for an entire day. Pizza, bread, cake. Anything we thought of, we'd bake. Most times we would make enough for the entire neighbourhood." Takumi chuckles at the memory, moving the cat shaped dough onto a baking tray. "We gave away most to the customers who visited the Trattoria ."

"Sounds nice." Souma watches Takumi arrange the to-be-bread, smiling lopsidedly at how reminiscing, accent heavy Takumi was cute too. When Takumi fills the tray, Souma sighs loudly and exaggeratedly.

"I'd join you, but...I can't find the energy." Takumi turns to face Souma, raising a brow at the odd statement.

Snaking his arms around Takumi's waist, Souma flashes a sneaky grin. "Recharging comes at the low, low fee of a kiss."

Takumi's cheeks glow red hot. A flustered giggle.

"What a steal." Takumi murmurs, dutifully complying, leaning in, lips a breath away when -

The oven timer dings, and Souma is unceremoniously shoved aside.

"Ah, I have to get the bread out first."

Souma dumbfoundedly stares at Takumi pulling on oven gloves, opening the steaming appliance. Left all alone in bed, and now ditched for baked goods. Souma thinks this story might finally beat Hayama's anecdote of being stood up at the airport for two hours by Alice and Ryou in terms of lover neglection.

Then Takumi lets out a shriek of laughter, and the sound drives away everything Souma is brooding over. Damn, Takumi really was too cute for his own good.

"Souma, look!" Takumi squeals, spinning around to reveal the bread tray overflowing with monstrous golden brown perfection. "T-They were supposed to be chicks but I-I forgot to put spaces between them and they - " Takumi spirals off into more unbridled laughter, tray barely held in his shaking hands.

Inspecting the bread closely, specks of corn that was likely the chicks' beaks could be seen dotting the mangled squares of bread. Upon Souma mentioning that, Takumi breaks off into an even louder peal of laughter.

Takumi, standing in the middle of their kitchen, flour sticking onto his arms, his hair; hands full of a steaming tray of disaster, laughing without a care in the world, face flushed candied cherries red; golden ring that hangs on a silver chain around his neck catching sunlight with every swing - and Souma really, really, really wants to crouch down and bury his face in his arms and suddenly weak knees from how beautiful Takumi looks and how absolutely blissful he feels right now, goddamit.

"I'm so happy I married you." Souma manages to work out instead. "I'm so, so happy."

Takumi's laughter abruptly stops from how fast his mouth snaps shut in surprise and embarrassment. But just as easily, just as quickly, a bashful smile is blossoming on his face, shy giggles leaking from his parted mouth.

Putting the tray down on a nearby counter, Takumi pulls off his oven mitts and shuffles forward towards a very very flushed Souma. Cupping Souma's warm cheeks, Takumi murmurs, "Me too," and pecks his lips lightly.

"Help me finish baking?" Takumi asks, with the smell of sunshine clinging on him and a beaming smile.

"Mmm." Souma says, distractedly, hands finding their way to his partner's hips, leaning in for another kiss already.

Takumi laughs, again, and Souma feels thrillingly warm inside and out.

"Alright, just one more kiss."

Yeah, he really was a lucky man.


End file.
